


Derek's Leather Jacket

by ColetheWolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek's body, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Full Moon, Hidden feelings come out to play, Hurt and comfort, M/M, Muscle, Rainy Night, Stiles talks alot, boner, realizes feelings for each other, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/pseuds/ColetheWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles grabs his backpack from the backseat of the Camaro after Derek drives him to school. He ends up accidentally taking Derek's precious leather jacket as well. When Derek arrives at Stiles' home later to retrieve his "stolen" leather, he realizes that Stiles might actually have feelings for him. Who knows, maybe Derek has feelings for Stiles too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Derek's Leather Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the first fanfiction I've ever written. I wrote this back in July of 2012 and had it uploaded on Fanfiction.net. This is a newly updated version with more dialogue. Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> REVISED: December 1st 2012

Stiles lays curled up in the soft cotton of his bed sheets staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom as the sun rises. He stays in the fetal position, clutching the sheets while a knot of nervousness stays cemented in his stomach. He has been awake practically all night, occasionally wiping away tears streaming down his cheeks with the blanket he holds so tightly. Sleep just isn’t something Stiles comes by anymore. Well, not actual deep sleep anyways. He gets exhausting ten minute sessions of sleep before he wakes up crying and shaking only to fall back asleep for another ten minutes before it happens again. It’s been like this for a month now and Stiles can barely even suffer it anymore. Honestly, it’s the worst Stiles has ever felt.

It all started about a month ago back when Stiles mustered up the courage to ask his lab partner to prom, and she ended up laughing in his face in front of the rest of the chemistry class. Stiles was stuck in a depression unlike he had ever experienced before. Normally being laughed at wouldn't have got him down since it’s happened before but he was sick of being that guy that would probably never get a girlfriend. Never get a kiss. Never lose his fucking virginity. And in light of all that, life looked pretty bleak to Stiles.

Stiles iphone alarm blares, officially signifying the loss of another night’s sleep and the start of another horrible day in hell. He doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t want to drag himself through eight hours of pointless mathematical equations and climbing the rope in P.E, but he knows he has to pull himself together. Stiles gets out of bed and throws on some clothes he picks up from the floor. They’re probably dirty, but Stiles can’t find a fuck to give. He’s not in the mood to play Beacon Hill’s Next Top Model. Stiles moves his way out of his bedroom, down the stairs and out the front door. He shivers at how cold it is outside and reaches into his pocket to get the keys to jeep before he realizes that he’s way too tried to get behind the wheel of a motor vehicle. Stiles heads out for school on foot.

As Stiles walks down the sidewalk, a familiar voice yells out from behind him.

"Where's Scott?"

 Stiles immediately recognizes that it is Derek and doesn’t really bother to acknowledge the question in play since Derek constantly treats him like dirt. He keeps walking down the street before he hears Derek angrily shout yet again from the window of his car. Derek’s masculine, growly voice echoes throughout the quiet neighborhood and Stiles swears snow falls from the street lights because of it. Stiles has absolutely no patience due to his lack of sleep. Within a second of hearing Derek’s second call out, Stiles becomes enraged with anger for no good reason. He throws his backpack to ground and turns to face Derek's car.

"What the hell do you want asshole?!” Stiles yells out, face contorted with sleep deprived ferociousness.

 Derek's eyes grow large with surprise and of course anger. He turns off the engine to his car and steps out. "You wanna re-word that before I come over there and rip that courage out of you?" Derek asks in a growl.

Stiles rolls his eyes in a quiet response, picks up his backpack from the icy sidewalk and begins to walk away when he hears Derek exhale in aggravation. It’s actually quite a childish thing Derek does, and really Stiles feels like commenting snarkily on it, but he needs to just get to school before he seriously boils over.

"Derek, you know you don't really intimidate—" Stiles begins to explains but Derek leaps over the hood of his car and pushes the somewhat fragile teenager into a lamp post. Stiles lets out a pained cry as his body makes contact with the metal pole. He attempts to fight back but Derek grabs him by the neck and lifts him higher against the pole.

"Derek…stop. Please, okay I’m sorry. I won’t talk back to you again….you’re hurting me.” Stiles whimpers still trying to get out of Derek's grip.

Both of their faces nearly press together as their eyes lock into a dark stare down. Stiles looks around the empty streets for somebody to help as Derek begins to speak.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are. But when I ask a question, you answer it!" Derek growls, gripping a tad bit tighter, letting his claws nick Stiles’ pale skin.

Derek continues to stare directly at Stiles with a feral gaze until he witnesses Stiles' eyes welling up with tears. Derek's facial expression shiftes from intimidating to puzzled in seconds and he lets his grip on the teen go. Stiles just drops down to his knees and begins sobbing into his sweater's sleeves.

"What's wrong now?" Derek barks all while he tries to be somewhat sympathetic and dominant at the same time. Stiles wipes his eyes and stands up to face Derek.

"I don't know where Scott is. Stop using me to find your little pal. Use your god damn werewolf senses you were blessed with and leave me the hell alone." Stiles  yells, still recovering from the embarrassing quiver of being on the edge of tears again. "Now can I leave please? It's cold and I'm going to be late for school." Stiles asks and looks to Derek who is scanning Stiles head to toe with his eyes trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with the kid.

"Just get in, I'll drive you." Derek mutters. Stiles’ weak gaze focuses from a post-sob blur while tries to figure out Derek’s intentions.

"Why? Are you plotting to kill me or something? You're not exactly the nice guy here. So why are you suddenly offering?" Stiles barks out and wipes his eyes again. He looks up from his sleeve just in time to notice Derek’s eyes becoming somewhat upset by the remark he made.

"Walk. I don’t give a damn.” Derek spits out and glares at Stiles before he heads off towards the driver side of his Camaro.

"No! Wait! I didn't mean it.” Stiles calls out and rushes into Derek's car. As soon as Derek pulls off from the side of the road, Stiles looks around the Camaro’s dashboard and switches on the heater. Feeling comfortable, he curls up and closes his eyes attempting to cure his headache due to lack of sleep. Derek turns his head to look at Stiles before he switches the heater back off.

Stiles instantly opens his eyes and pops up to look at Derek. "Why did you do that?" He asks.

"Did I say you could turn on the heater?" Derek questions, keeping his eyes on the road.

 Stiles looks around the car as if the answer to Derek’s question was yes. “Am I supposed to ask to be comfortable?”

"It's already too hot in here!" Derek retorts sounding even angrier than before.

Stiles laughs and mutters under his breath. "I blame your body."

Derek turns to look at Stiles slightly confused. What was Stiles talking about now? Did he really attempt flirt and/or complement Derek? Sure sounded like it.

 Remembering Derek has super werewolf hearing and that he probably just heard what he muttered, Stiles quickly begins trying to correct his mistake of talking. "I'm joking! Obviously…I mean not that you're not attractive. I'm sure all the lady wolves are always up on your junk!" Stiles just basically word vomits all over and his face turns bright red from embarrassment.

 Derek shakes his head at Stiles’ incoherent babbling before telling Stiles to just shut up.

Stiles curls back up and closes his eyes again while Derek takes a few more glances at Stiles before he turns the heater back on. Minutes pass and Stiles can’t help but talk again.

"Look, I'm sorry I said you weren't a nice guy. You are nice. It's just hard to see cause you’re kinda a rough and tough, big bad wolf type of dude… But when you do show your kinder side, it's nice. I wish you’d show it more. Maybe then you wouldn’t hate me so much. I mean, I don’t know if you hate me. You probably do. But it’s okay, people seem to naturally hate me." Stiles pauses to take a breath. “It’s probably because I talk too much. And I know. I’m talking too much right now, but you don’t talk much. So I kinda like to pretend that you listen. At least I have one person that listens―”

"We're here. Get out.” Derek interrupts. “And if the stench from your dirty clothes has soaked into my leather seats I will personally hold you down and rip out your molars." Derek threatens.

"Yeah, yeah." Stiles replies almost lifelessly, not really paying attention to Derek's dark threat as he reaches into the backseat of the Camaro to grab his backpack. Stiles hops out of the car, closes the car door and begins walking up to the school's front entrance when he realizes he grabbed Derek's leather jacket by mistake. He turns around to stop Derek from driving off but he’s too late. Stiles begins walking again as he starts talking to himself.

"I have Derek Hale's jacket. In my hand. Maybe girls will talk to me. Like me. Actually be all over me if I were to act like Derek. Maybe if I wear his jacket…” Life and hope for the future of his teenagehood jumps back into Stiles’ body as he walks into the School.  
...

When Stiles is finally released from his after school detention, the sun is already close to gone. Walking back home, Stiles is even more upset than before. His plan didn't work. Not even one girl thought he was any cooler. "The jacket is too fucking big... and I don't have Derek's muscles to fill it in." Stiles takes off the loose fitting jacket and holds it in his hands.

"Gross. It smells just like him." Stiles thinks to himself. "It kind of smells like fresh pine mixed with Derek's own musty scent." Stiles pauses to acknowledge the fact that he doesn’t actually find the smell gross. "It's probably cause he's always sweating. He’s probably constantly sweating right through his shirts...he probably doesn't even wear a shirt when he exercises." Stiles becomes flustered as he looks down to see his hard-on tenting in his shorts. He puts Derek's jacket over his now noticeable bulge and walks as fast as he can away from the people that are standing on the sidewalk socializing. He wouldn't be so embarrassed if it weren't for the fact he was wearing his lacrosse shorts. It begins to rain and Stiles hides Derek's leather jacket under his own shirt so it won’t get ruined.

"That must be why no girls talk to me. It's because they can―I don’t know…sense? Yeah…they can sense I'm more attracted to someone not of their, plumbing. God, If Derek ever finds out that I have a crush on him, he will kill me." Stiles thinks to himself harder as he walks up to the front door of his house.

Stiles walks into his house and up the stairs to his bedroom. He throws Derek's jacket onto his bed and stares at it for a while. He then walks over to the body length mirror hanging on his wall and takes off his long sleeve shirt. He keeps his tank top on and begins flexing his arms while looking in the mirror.

"Damn it! There's no way I’ll get a body like Derek's. No friggin’ way. What the hell does Derek do to maintain that?" Stiles questions in his own mind before dropping to the ground only to begin doing multiple pushups. After only a few minutes his arms began to shake as he forces himself to continue exercising. The power suddenly goes out and Stiles jumps onto his bed, frightened.

"Oh God." Stiles whispers as if he’s in a horror movie and a killer was looking for him. He grabs his cell phone off the nightstand beside him and uses it to brighten up the room. He scans the room with the light of his phone just to make sure no one was there. He flashes the soft glow directly to his side and begins screaming in sheer panic when he sees a pair of red eyes. Out of reflex he punches the figure and rolls off the bed to the floor of the opposite side.

"You're fucking dead Stiles!" screams the now injured stranger from the other side of the bed. Stiles realizes the voice belongs to Derek and quickly put his arms over his own face to block any punch that might be coming from the angry werewolf in retaliation.

"Can you kill me after I light some candles? I'd like to witness my own death." Stiles says sarcastically.

  
Derek exhales, calming down. "Get em' quickly, before I really lose it!" Derek orders.

Still blinded by the power outage, Stiles walks very slowly in the direction of the hallway trying not to trip over anything on his mess of bedroom floor. It like a video game trying not to step on a land mine only instead of land mines, it’s trying not to step on dirty t-shirts, boxers and old homework assignments. He moves his hands around and feels objects so he won’t run into them or stub his toe on them. Stiles grabs at an object he doesn’t quite recognize. It’s warm, kinda squishy yet retained some firmness. He attempts to figure out what it is when Derek grabs his wrist forcefully.

"What are you doing that for Derek?" Stiles asks, but Derek doesn’t answer back. "Oh my God...was that your...Oh my god." Stiles mumbles as he begins to blush. He realizes he basically just completely accidentally got to second base with Derek. He didn’t mean too. It’s pitch black, and Derek’s package was just in the way of being felt up on. Through the jeans of course, because uh, why would Derek have little Derek out. Or big Derek. Stiles doesn’t know the size. Yeah, he kinda wants to know, but if he ever actually tried to ask to see Derek… he’d probably lose some teeth.

Derek pushes Stiles out of the room and into the hallway.

"You know it's not fair you get to see in the dark with your super wolf vision." Stiles explains as he opens the hallway closet door. He picks up the candles and lights them. He places them around his room, and begins to talk. "Now why are you here again? This is like the fifth time this month of breaking into old Stilinski Manor. I'm starting to think you can't contain your raging werewolf sex urges for me anymore." Stiles winks and gives Derek an innocently dorky, yet cute and harmless smile.

"Yeah, a scrawny mess of teenager that never shuts the hell is exactly what I'm looking for." Derek snaps back sarcastically. He wants to take the remark back though as soon as he sees the little energetic gleam of light from Stiles’ eyes dim. He realizes he struck a nerve in Stiles.

"You're not wrong." Stiles pauses while trying to hold back the tears rushing to his eyes. "I am scrawny, and I never shut up. I guess that's why no one likes me." Stiles wipes his eyes. "And you're here for your leather jacket right?"

Derek nods, listening to the sad tone in Stiles' voice. Stiles picked up the leather jacket off his bed and throws it to Derek.

"There." Stiles says in a quiet, emotionless tone as he walks to look out his bedroom window.

"It's a full moon. Shouldn't you be off to lock yourself away so you don't maliciously murder someone innocent like the beast you truly are?" Stiles angrily yells while he turns to stare directly into Derek's eyes.

Derek steps closer to the distraught teenager. In a calm, and almost soothing tone Derek questions Stiles’ action. "Why did you take it?"

Stiles is shocked that Derek didn’t just gut him for talking to him in such a rude way. Weird. Not even just weird, like really weird. Derek is being somewhat understanding and sympathetic. Definitely not two things Derek does every day.

"I didn't take it on purpose. It was accidental. I tried to return it right away, but you had already sped off from the school's parking lot." Stiles sighs. "Don't laugh, but I thought that maybe if I dressed like you and acted like you, girls would want to actually talk to me for once." He sits down at his desk chair and stares at his feet seemly embarrassed.

  
Derek kneels to meet eye level with Stiles. Yet again, something unusual Derek was doing.

"Look at me Stiles." He says as he softly tilts Stiles' head upward so that their eyes meet. "I'm not someone to look up to. Not for anything. Not even for inspiration."

Stiles gives Derek a confused look trying to think of an actual heartfelt response.

"You've been hunting down a killer practically by yourself, and putting your own life at risk because of it. I don't really care what you say...that's something to look up to." Stiles explains then stand up from the chair.

He blows out a few of the lit candles, then walks over to his closet and starts looking through his not very big collection clothes. Mostly flannels, jeans, and t-shirts with witty phrases on the.

 "I'm not going to eat dinner, I'm just gonna conk out and hopefully get some sleep.” Stiles takes off his white tank top and changes into a pretty snug fitting Star Wars t-shirt. He takes off his lacrosse shorts, throws them on the floor, and puts on pajama pants. Derek's eyes lock onto Stiles while the teen’s back was turned for a few seconds. He can’t help but take in how Stiles looks striped down and not covered up with jackets, sweatshirts, t-shirts and God knows what else. Stiles actually—dare he admit it—actually looked really, _really_ attractive. Derek forces himself to look away. Stiles got into bed and tried to get comfortable.

"Look your doors. And your windows. It's a full moon...be safe." Derek whispers as he opens Stiles’ bedroom window ready to leave. Derek throws his leather jacket onto Stiles' bed.

  
"You can keep it."

Derek puts one leg out the window to leave when Stiles suddenly calls out for him.

"Derek wait!"

Derek turns back around to see Stiles take a deep breath before speaking.

"Can you maybe stay here with me for the night? I'm kinda nervous of being alone during the full moon when my dad is at work. I’m not scared though! So don’t you dare call me scared. I’m just nervous, and I’d feel somewhat safer knowing someone is here in case something happens."

Derek shuts the window and sighs loudly as he sits down in Stiles’ desk chair before crossing his arms. "There. Now shut up and go to sleep Stiles."

Stiles tucks himself under the covers and gets comfortable. A few seconds of quiet pass by before Stiles interrupts it.

"Derek..." Stiles trails off and Derek loudly cuts in.

"If you talk again, I'll leave. I'm not playing little games with you all night Stiles." Derek asserts, but despite what Derek says, Stiles continues to speak.

"I know that chair is uncomfortable to sit in. I always end up jacking my back up pretty bad when I sit in it for too long. Been meaning to buy a new one. But you can lay here if you want. I don't care. There's probably enough room for you and your wide load shoulders." Stiles laughs. “I’ll move over and get you a new pillow case if you want one. I’m wearing clothes, so it won’t be weird or anything.”

 Derek remains quiet so Stiles just closes his eyes, puts the covers over his head thinking that Derek was probably done with dealing with him for the night and was probably about to leave.

The dull, clanking sound of a belt buckle being undone sounds throughout Stiles’ bedroom. Stiles pops up to look at Derek who’s taking his jeans off.

"What are you doing?” Stiles asks and Derek glares at Stiles.

"Do you want me to lay in your bed with my jeans that are soaked with rain water?" Derek asks.

 Stiles realizes he’s probably made of fool of himself by asking such dumb questions.

Derek takes off his shoes and throws his wet pants to the floor. He walks over to Stiles' closet to get a dry shirt. Derek takes off his wet long sleeve shirt while opening Stiles’ closet door. He rolls his shoulders as the cold air of Stiles’ bedroom breezes across his naked back.

Stiles then honestly can’t help it and becomes mesmerized by Derek's body. Practically drooling on his pillow while he takes in the beautiful imagine of Derek’s backside. Beautiful muscle. That beautiful tattoo…beautiful everything really.

"God! He's even more ripped than I thought. And I don't even think he's trying to flex his muscles." Stiles thinks to himself as he directs his eyes towards Derek's ass. The green plaid boxers hang loosely on Derek’s perfect waist and Stiles is actually amazed that even the dude’s lower back is carved like a Greek god.

Derek grabs a white shirt from Stiles’ closet and puts it on. He looks over his shoulder and smirks.

"Staring at my ass isn't sleeping. Is it Stiles?" Derek asks.

 Stiles attempts to explain. Not actually explain, but at least come up with some believable lie that would throw Derek off completely.

“I..I was— wasn't looking at you. Why would I even look at you Derek?" Stiles asks, stuttering and tripping over his own words.

"Don't lie." Derek says as he shuts the closet door and smiles slightly.

He walks to the other side of the bed to get in. Stiles can’t help but look at the front side of Derek's body this time. Stiles' shirt certainly doesn’t fit Derek's giant muscles. It’s so tight that Derek's entire chest is perfectly outlined through the fabric. The plain white shirt is actually too short for Derek's height as well, so it allows Stiles to see Derek's happy trail.

Derek gets into the bed and blows out the last candle. Stiles just lays there, waiting until Derek starts to snore louder. When Derek finally does seem to drift into slumber land, Stiles inches closer to Derek's body. After minutes of strategically moving closer without waking Derek, Stiles rests his head on Derek's shoulder and curls up next to Derek's body. He closes his eyes and notices how hot Derek's body was. Yes, his body was very attractive, but it was his body's temperature that was blazing this time. Stiles doesn’t understand if it’s normal for a werewolf to have such a warm body. But it doesn’t matter because Stiles feels cozy. He feels safe. Stiles begins to do what he does best at nighttime though. He begins to over think.

"Derek's going to rip out my throat when he wakes up and finds me laying this close to him." Stiles thinks as he attempts to move back to his original spot on the bed. As he tries to do so, Derek suddenly wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist and holds him tight.

"Don't." Derek whispers.

Stiles is stunned by the fact Derek actually wants to be closer to him. He lays there staring at Derek debating on whether to make a move. His heart is pounding so hard, it feels like it’s going to fly out of his chest. He’s nervous and excited at the same time. He has had a crush on Derek ever since he saw Derek getting arrested back at the Hale house. He remembers thinking how hot Derek looked in handcuffs. Just one of his own personal kinks. Stiles debates on what to do for a few seconds before he actually gathers enough courage to make a move.

He pecks Derek on the lips quickly then freezes in place, waiting to see how Derek will react. Derek opens his eyes and stares at the now frightened Stiles. He looks into Stiles' eyes for a few seconds, acknowledging what Stiles did before smiling and closing his eyes again.

Stiles smiles, curling up tighter with Derek, and falling asleep to the sound of Derek’s beating heart.

 


End file.
